


i was so tempted (i wouldn't dare)

by rubyknowbys



Series: a romantic atmosphere [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Aziraphale is "just enough of a bastard to be worth knowing" (Good Omens), Banter, Christmas Eve, Crowley Needs a Hug (Good Omens), Crowley loves plants, F/F, First Kiss, Happy Ending, Ineffable Idiots (Good Omens), Ineffable Wives | Female Aziraphale/Female Crowley (Good Omens), Inspired by She Loves Me (Musical), Not that much though, She/Her Pronouns for Aziraphale (Good Omens), She/Her Pronouns for Crowley (Good Omens), anonymous texting, but they love each other - Freeform, harold they are lesbians !, i'm sorry all the smokers who read this for the jokes i love you guys, they can feel your energy, they hate each other, they work together at a bookshop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:26:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28060116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rubyknowbys/pseuds/rubyknowbys
Summary: It’s a message delivered to the wrong number that brought Antonia J. Crowley and Aziraphale Fell together and, even in anonymity, a friendship inevitably made something deeper flourish amongst shared texts. Antonia started working at Medium’s Bookshop, they finally scheduled a date, and Aziraphale was thrilled to know that she’s going to meet the owner of the irresistible words, which made her fall in love so quickly. But the bookshop supervisor didn’t imagine that their new employee, who she detested even more each day, is the same woman who has been sending her those anonymous darling messages all along.And when she found out, the information created a new dilemma inside her mind, while her most powerful impulse became to try to win Antonia’s heart smoothly: should Aziraphale tell her?
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: a romantic atmosphere [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2100198
Comments: 13
Kudos: 45





	i was so tempted (i wouldn't dare)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jenharding](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jenharding/gifts).



> Duda asked me for this one a long time ago, so here I am, a gay, showing her gay little (not that little!) fanfic to the world. I'm nervous but I hope everyone likes it! 
> 
> (I also want to thank Júlia, my wonderful beta, Valéria, who helped me *so much* with this one, Mary, who supported my ideas and listened to my brainstormings, Laizinha, who also supported me through this journey, and All the Moranguetes who were also there for me. I love you all so much and I'm thankful for having you all in my life.)

**[Unknown Number] 5:35pm**

_hastur i swear if u don’t pay me i’ll have to do your moneylender’s job and kill you_

**[Aziraphale] 6:59pm**

_Good evening._ _  
_ _I don’t know who you think I am, but last time I checked, I was indeed not called “Hastur”._

**[Unknown Number] 7:00pm**

_do you think i’m an idiot?_

**[Aziraphale] 7:05pm**

_You are giving me many reasons to think so, yes._

ㅡ

Since she was a little cream haired child, Aziraphale loved books. She often dreamed about being the owner of a bookshop, so she could choose never to sell books to anyone and have all the time in the world to read every book ever to exist. Years ago, when Aziraphale first got her job at Medium Bookshop, she thought her days were going to be at least a little bit peaceful, with time to appreciate the books. Now, as she looked after another client and caught Michael trying to handle two people at once, she wanted to laugh at her younger, naive self. 

It was good that she became great at doing her job very quickly and Madame Tracy trusted her just enough to make her a supervisor. 

When the last client said their farewells and got out of the shop, Michael looked at her with a smile which said _“It’s gossip time!”,_ so she smiled back. “I hope you have something new to tell me because I can’t think of anything to tell you don’t already know,” Aziraphale said as she walked closer to her friend. 

“I can think of one thing, though.” She smiled a smile that was all too knowing and Aziraphale rolled her eyes, playfully, “How’s your Dear Friend?”

“She has a way with words,” Aziraphale blushed, “Yesterday we were having conversations about Dante’s Inferno, and she’s just so intelligent, and even though we started on wrong terms she’s really becoming a dear friend of mine.” 

“I wonder when the two of you are finally going to meet. It has been months since your first conversation, you’re head over heels, and Dear Friend doesn’t have a name or a face.” 

Aziraphale, of course, knew that. She desperately wanted to meet Dear Friend, often wondering if they would be friends if they met in different circumstances, but sometimes, when she imagined the day of their first date, she saw everything going wrong. Of that, she was terrified. “I thought you were going to tell me some hot gossip.” 

Michael laughed. Having known Aziraphale for years, she already expected that response to their conversation, “You know the nice guy that was looking for Technology books the other day? Well-“ 

“Aziraphale!” Michael was interrupted by Gabriel’s voice, and she rolled her eyes; apparently, the gossip would have to wait. Aziraphale put on her best fake smile before turning in his direction, “Do you think you’re setting a good example as our supervisor by standing here, chatting with Michael?” 

Aziraphale put the thoughts of physical violence aside and said, “Mr. Haven, what kind of example do you think you’re setting by screaming my name in the middle of the shop?”

The words sounded harsher than she intended, and she only realised that when she heard Michael snorting behind her and Gabriel looking like a hurt puppy for a couple of seconds. He quickly put his mask back on and smiled as nothing had happened, “I was just saying, Miss Fell.” 

She watched as he went to the other side of the shop and turned again to Michael, who was trying too hard not to laugh, “ _I was just saying, Miss Fell_.” She mocked, with an affected tone. 

Aziraphale shook her head with disapproval, but her heart wasn’t in it, because she had a little smile plastered on her face. 

“As your friend, I think your imitation of him is quite funny and strangely accurate, but as your supervisor, my advice is only to do it when we’re not working.” She tried her best at winking and failed, so Michael laughed again. 

“Miss Fell!” 

Madame Tracy was in a good mood. It was evident by the way she called Aziraphale like she was just so happy to see her, or the way didn’t even let her turn around or answer before pulling her to dance. It wasn’t like she wasn’t used to Madame Tracy’s antics, but they came in the most unexpected ways, and Aziraphale had no option than to follow her lead.

“It’s excellent to see you too, Madame Tracy,” Aziraphale said, smiling as they waltzed to no music in the middle of the bookshop. “What has gotten you so lively?” 

Madame Tracy spun her around, “I woke up and realised how long-sighted I am.” She realised the furrow of her supervisor’s brows and smiled bigger, “I had an idea to finally open our borders and increase our clientele.” 

They stopped dancing, “Yes?” 

Madame Tracy made a gesture, and Gabriel came behind her with a potted plant, showing off and smiling because, of course, he would be the first one to agree with whatever idea she came up with. He gave the plant to Aziraphale, and she stared at them, more confused than she was before. 

If they were cartoon characters, surely an interrogation point would be standing above her head at that point. 

“I read somewhere that many people like to read surrounded by nature, so I thought: Well, wouldn't it be lovely to blend those concepts a little bit?” Her supervisor widened her eyes and bit her tongue, even though Tracy was staring at her with expectation. When she got no response, she sighed, “Sometimes you’re very dense, Miss Fell. We’re going to sell plants now. With the books!” 

“Yes, I understood that part.” And she didn’t like it. “It’s fascinating, what you read, but you see, Madame Tracy, I also once read an article which said books and plants don’t get along in a limited space.” She said in the calmer tone of voice she could manage, Aziraphale was used to being the voice of reason, it wasn’t going to be the first time she convinced Tracy out of an idea. “The humidity, and all.” She smiled, and Madame Tracy shook her head. 

“You don’t need to worry because the plants and the books aren’t going to stay in this limited space for much longer.” 

“I’m not so sure about that.” 

“Alright, Aziraphale. I’ll make you a bet. I’ll bet you fifty pounds we’ll sell this little one within _one hour_.” Madame Tracy looked very smug, but her supervisor was just trying desperately to communicate with Michael to help her and get her out of this situation. Still, her friend was pretending she wasn’t even part of the shop. 

She laughed nervously, “I don’t want to take your money…” 

“Come on. Fifty. One hour. No more, no less. Is it a bet?” 

“Well,” 

Madame Tracy smiled bigger at her hesitation. It wasn’t even possible that she believed so vehemently her idea was going to work, but she did. “You’re not so confident now, are you?” 

Now Aziraphale felt challenged, so she took a deep breath and said firmly, “It’s a bet.” 

A few minutes later, the first potential plant owner entered the shop, and Tracy was eager to prove to Aziraphale she was mistaken. She put her best smile, held the potted plant in front of her like it was the most valuable thing she had to offer and asked the person who had just entered the shop if she could help with anything. 

Unfortunately, they didn’t rise to the bait. 

“Isn’t that a lovely Aloe Vera?” She asked, and the person looked at her with the most unimpressive face she had ever seen. The client, on the other hand, didn’t know how to react to the older lady talking about plants in a bookshop, but they already had seen a lot of things in their life, so they just didn’t react. 

“It is. Very charming.” A beat. Madame Tracy got her hopes up. “Do you have any bilingual version of Oscar Wilde’s The Picture of Dorian Gray?” 

The older woman tried not to show her disappointment. “Just letting you know this beautiful plant is also for sale.” She tried to convince the person with a cheerful tone, but once again, they didn’t rise to the bait. 

She gave up, maybe another one would be interested in it. “Michael,” She called “your customer.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

When the other potential plant owner entered the shop, Madame Tracy quickly discovered that her earlier thought was very wrong. They didn’t even exchange two words until she called Miss Device and asked her to deal with the client's inquiries. 

At the same moment, she looked at Aziraphale, who was already staring back at her with a satisfied smile on her face. 

She knew she was going to win the bet. She wouldn’t have made it in the first place if she felt like she was going to lose. 

That’s why she did nothing but send a wink on her way. 

ㅡ

Antonia J. Crowley stood in front of Medium Bookshop for a good couple of minutes. It was good that she put effort into combing her hair, she thought, it increased the chances to be hired. 

When she finally managed to enter the shop, instead of going to speak to Madame Tracy directly, she just pretended to be a client and looked at the books for a couple of minutes, but that didn’t make her more at ease, if anything, she was just getting more nervous. So much that when someone tried to ask her about the location of some book she hissed, “Do I look like I work in a bookshop?”, but when she realised what she said (and the irony of it), she widened her eyes, and quickly apologised. 

After that, she sighed. Antonia hoped no one had seen what she had done, or the chance of getting hired would get even closer to zero. 

“Good day, Madam.” She turned to see who was talking to her this time and saw the most beautiful woman she had ever seen in her entire life. She had beautiful curly cream coloured hair, and her eyes seemed to shine like stars under the bookshop’s light. “May I help you?” 

“No!” She shook her head. “I mean, yes.” She smiled nervously and received a warm smile from the pretty lady with clear eyes. She was pretty sure she could feel her brain cells die at that moment. 

“Do you have any particular books in mind?” 

“No. I’m here to talk with Madame Tracy, actually.” Pretty Lady looked at her with an arched brow, and Antonia tried to keep a smile on her face, “Is she here?” 

“She’s in her office.” 

“I know she’s a busy lady, but I don’t mind. I can wait for her.” 

Antonia asked herself if that sounded like she had way too much time to spend. Well, it wouldn’t be the wrong impression, because she was unemployed, after all, but it wouldn’t be the kind of image she wanted to give. 

Pretty Lady nodded, “May I ask,” She hesitated. “the nature of your business?” 

“I think I’d better speak with Madame Tracy personally.” 

Pretty Lady tried to check her out discreetly, but Antonia saw what she was doing, and her soul almost escaped her body. “Very well,” She smiled warmly again. “May I have your name, please?” 

“Crowley. Antonia J. Crowley.” 

The other woman eyed her curiously. “What does the J stand for?” 

Antonia’s mom was a very superstitious lady. She taught her to never give her middle name to a stranger, or Heavens knows what they could do with that information. She didn’t think Pretty Lady would do anything wrong with that information, but the answer came automatically, “It’s just a J, really.” 

“Very well, Miss Crowley, I’ll tell her you’re here.” 

When she’s turning around to go for the Office, Antonia remembers something and calls for her, “Oh! Just one thing.” She prepares herself to the disappointment, “Mrs. Young, who used to work here and is having a baby… she hasn’t been replaced yet, has she?” 

Pretty Lady narrows her eyes, “Are you looking for a job?” 

“I guess you could call it that.” The other woman started to say something but Antonia would not give up, “I’m terrific at this business! I worked at H&L for years!” 

“I’m sure you’re as good as you say,” She tried to give the bad news as smoothly as possible, “But, unfortunately, we’re not replacing Mrs. Young. right now.” 

“If you just let me speak with Madame Tracy-“

Sometimes, the universe decides to give you a second chance, so the game decided to turn around for Antonia. It was up to her to be intelligent and take advantage of it when she heard a silky voice say, “Perhaps I can help you?” 

She was going to say something, but Pretty Lady beat her to it, “She wants a job.” 

“What?” 

_Damn._

Well, if she insisted enough… 

“I know this kind of business! Inside and out. I worked at H&L for years and-“ 

“Out of the question.” Madame Tracy shook her head emphatically and looked at Pretty Lady, “Seriously, Aziraphale. Why can’t you handle this sort of thing without me having to intervene?” 

She starts going back to her office when Antonia notices a client waiting for her package and eyeing the Aloe Vera on display. She thought it was better not to ask why they had an Aloe Vera for sale, she could do that after she got the job. 

“Madame Tracy! Wait.” The older lady turned around, looking very inconvenienced, but started paying attention to her, “Let me just show you.” 

She gathered the courage that she doesn’t have and goes to talk to the client. She remembered for a moment that she has no persuasive bone in her body, but it was like some people said: fake it until you make it. So she smiled warmly and faked it. 

“Isn’t this a marvellous Aloe Vera?” She asked the woman with enthusiasm like the potted plant was the most precious thing she had ever seen in her life, “And it’s so cheap! Can you imagine?” 

The client made a face, “I don’t really like plants. Don’t understand the point of having them at home.” 

That was the moment she started to feel confident: she had countless plants inside her flat, and this was a constant argument she had with her father every time he visited her. 

“You know,” The woman looked at her with interest, “It depends on what you’re looking for. Plants can purify the air of your house, they are good with energy, and I particularly feel like I’m safer with them in my house, that’s why I have many.” 

The woman was still uncertain about it. “I feel like I would kill one in less than a week.” 

Antonia laughed. 

“You are in luck, then!” She pointed at the potted plant sitting beside them with a big smile, “Aloe Veras are excellent to start because they are really very easy to take care of—And let me tell you a secret: they are so good to use in your hair. Look at mine!” Then showed her beautiful red locks and thanked her past self for putting an effort that day. 

She tried not to look at the contemplative woman with expectations but failed. 

“Well,” She said and smiled when her first client and the reason she might get a job wasn’t entirely with a contemplative face anymore, “I have the plant, and you, the wish for an understanding of the benefits of having one at home, do you want it wrapped with or without a little tie?” 

“With a tie, please.” 

“Consider it done!” 

She looked up to see if Madame Tracy was still watching her and saw the older woman beaming with pure joy, looking a little bit smug and sticking her hand out to Pretty Lady—Aziraphale—who gave her some money. 

Honestly, she was confused by their dynamic, but just shrugged it off and walked up to them after Miss Device said she would take the transaction from there. 

“You’re hired! Miss—?” 

“Antonia! Antonia J. Crowley.” 

Madame Tracy nodded like she didn’t intend to forget her name again and smiled warmly, “Miss Crowley, welcome to Medium Bookshop.”

Antonia felt a little proud of herself at that moment because she thought that she wasn’t going to succeed, but well, everything ended smoothly for her, “Thank you!” 

However, she realised her job wasn’t going to be that smooth when she looked up to Pretty Lady with a smile on her face, and the warm expression that had greeted her before wasn’t there anymore. 

ㅡ

**[Online Friend] 6:40pm**

_you know_

_you never gave me your name_

**[Aziraphale] 6:43pm**

_Well, I can’t go offering my name to people. I would prefer selling it._

**[Online Friend] 6:43pm**

_hahaha you’re so funny_

_that’s some shitty capitalist thinking tho_

**[Aziraphale] 6:45pm**

_I would like to know your name, too._

**[Online Friend] 6:45pm**

_hey_

_i asked first_

_and i can’t keep calling you the girl i texted thinking it was hastur forever_

**[Aziraphale] 6:48pm**

_I will give you a clue: my name is the same as the name of an angel._

_Not the common ones, though._

**[Online Friend] 6:49pm**

_might as well just call you “angel”_

**[Aziraphale] 6:51pm**

_That would be quite an inaccurate description of me, dear._

**[Online Friend] 6:51pm**

_nope. just changed your contact here to angel_

ㅡ

It was early, as Aziraphale was never late, and she was strolling towards the bookshop. Living inside her mind was Dear Friend. She often wondered how she looked, if Dear Friend was drinking enough water (although, Aziraphale always asked), how her days were going, and if she would like her once they met. 

It was strange, liking someone so much without ever seeing them in person. Or knowing their name. Or how they looked. 

But she was happy.

“Good morning, Aziraphale.” She startled when she heard Antonia’s voice behind her and stiffened. Of course, she would ruin her moment alone. 

Aziraphale looked at her watch, and fake gasped, “I see you’re on time today, Miss Crowley.” It was clear by her smile that she was mocking Antonia. “Congratulations.” 

Antonia decided to play her game and pouted, “So sorry to disappoint you.” 

“Oh, but I’m not disappointed.” She smiled wider, “Far from it. Let’s call it surprised.” She winked at her, and Antonia rolled her eyes. 

Their argument continued softly until Antonia entered the bookshop and closed the door on Aziraphale’s face, who just mumbled something under her breath and opened the door so she could get in too. 

From afar, Adam—Medium’s Bookshop favourite and only delivery boy—and Michael were watching them. Michael was very amused by the whole thing, and Adam was with the puzzled expression of a young man who wouldn’t know if someone was in love with him even if it was written with neon lights on a billboard. 

(It was true. Adam’s childhood friend, Warlock Dowling, was trying to give him clues for a long time, but he was just too dense to recognise the signs.) 

“They are always arguing,” The young boy finally voiced what was keeping him so intrigued, “Why’s that?” 

Michael laughed. Now, if they were cartoon characters, there would be not just one, but a lot of interrogation points getting dramatically out of Adam’s head. “Oh, Adam. It’s a simple chemical reaction. You see,” She tried to find the words to explain, “When Mom and Mom like each other very much—“ 

“They _like_ each other?!” It was said incredulously because Adam couldn’t wrap this information in his mind. 

Michael nodded, “I think so.” 

He still couldn’t believe it. 

“They like _like_ each other,” He paused. “ _Very much?”_

Michael nodded again. Very pointedly this time, so he could finally understand. 

“Don’t you think we should tell them?” 

Michael laughed. Oh, how the young minds worked! 

“My dear Adam,” She sighed contentedly, that conversation made her realise how much she missed her young days, “Even if we tell them, they would never believe us.” 

ㅡ

**[Dear Friend] 7:24pm**

_would you like to meet someday?_

_i mean_

_no rush at all_

_but how do you feel about it?_

_would you like to?_

**[Aziraphale] 7:29pm**

_I think it’s a beautiful idea, my dear._

_I would very much like to meet you._

**[Dear Friend] 7:29pm**

_oh, that’s nice_

_very nice_

_tuesday night?_

ㅡ

Tuesday morning, Aziraphale was late for the first time in many years working at Medium Bookshop. 

She gathered that maybe she wouldn’t be in much trouble if that was the first time she was later than usual for work and took her time to put on a lovely dress and a beautiful red lipstick she kept for special occasions. 

When she arrived, the first person who noticed her was Michael. She checked Aziraphale up and down and clapped in excitement, “You always look wonderful, but with that red lipstick you’re going to give Dear Friend a heart attack!” 

Aziraphale shook her head and smiled, “You don’t need to exaggerate like that,”

Michael rolled her eyes, “I’m not—“ 

“I do hope you’re right, though.” She smoothed her outfit, consciously, “I’m so nervous, what if she doesn’t like me? Or don’t show up at all?” 

Her friend was going to assure her that everything was going to be okay and the date would be fantastic. Still, their interaction was interrupted by a very nosy Gabriel who was overhearing their conversation and couldn’t help himself, so he asked, with all the judgment one could put in a question, “Blind date, huh?” 

They stared at him in silence, and he raised an eyebrow. Aziraphale was blushing since she heard the “blind date” bit and Michael was frowning like she was debating with herself the pros and cons of picking a fight with him, “I don’t remember—“

He interrupted Michael like she wasn’t talking at all and smiled ironically at Aziraphale, “It's cute, really! A Blind Date— Very convenient for a woman like you.” 

Aziraphale frowned, “What do you even mean by that?” 

Michael seemed to understand the veiled criticism, so she whispered to her, “You don’t need to worry about it,” and gave a step forward towards Gabriel, who didn’t react at all, “Look, Narciso, my patience with you is running thin—“ 

Aziraphale didn't like where this was going. 

“Michael, please—“ 

Her friend paid no attention to her, “And when I finally have no patience for your bullshit, I’ll destroy your face, and you’ll have nothing to appreciate in the mirror anymore.” 

(For many years, Aziraphale asked herself what the fuck was Gabriel’s deal. 

He wasn’t the first person she met when she started working at Medium Bookshop, but the first time they talked to each other, she realised that the moment he looked at her, he decided that he was going to make her life a little more complicated than it already was. 

Also, he had a habit of getting into their—Aziraphale and Michael’s— conversation when he wasn’t invited. 

One day, Aziraphale was talking excitedly about one of her favourite Oscar Wilde’s works, The Canterville Ghost, and was interrupted by Gabriel and his opinion about the literary work.

He started saying how much he thought Oscar Wilde was overrated. As Aziraphale started arguing back, his criticism got worse and worse until Aziraphale got _really_ upset and left him talking alone. 

The next day, she caught him leaning against a shelf and engrossed in the reading of The Canterville Ghost. 

That was the day she stopped asking herself what was his deal because, apparently, even he didn’t know.) 

ㅡ

“Oh, I’m so late!” Antonia entered almost running in the bookshop, ready to be scolded in the most passive-aggressive way by Aziraphale. But instead, her supervisor was nowhere to be seen, so she let herself relax a little. At least the lecture was going to be postponed. “Good morning. Am I very late?” 

Anathema just smiled knowingly, which was kind of her default one. She was a hereditary witch, so all her smiles were knowing. “Good morning! And, no. You’re not that late.” 

“Did Miss Fell say anything?” She started taking off her coat and headed to the workroom. 

“No.” 

“Where is she?” 

“In the workroom.” 

Antonia stopped in her tracks, “Oh,” She started walking back, deciding that maybe her coat could stay on her hand for another minute. Or many, because she wouldn’t want to be alone with Aziraphale in the workroom where she would scold her for being late for the millionth time since she started working at Medium Bookshop. 

“You’re all new! It’s good to see you out of those skinny black jeans.” Anathema said, spinning her to see the full outfit she was wearing and Antonia laughed with her commentary about her go-to piece of clothing. “I swear, I think one day it’s going to start walking by itself.” 

Antonia shook her head, still laughing. “Do I look alright?” 

“You look very Dark Academia to me.” 

“I don’t know what that means, but thanks!” 

“It means you look intelligent and chic. And this dark lipstick it’s just-“ Anathema does a _Chef Kiss_ movement, and Antonia blushes a little. 

“Thank you. It took me three hours to get dressed. That’s why I’m so late.” 

At that moment, Aziraphale got out of the workroom with some books she needed to get back on the shelf. “Good morning, Miss Crowley.” She said flatly, like she was regretting getting out of the workroom, or getting out of her house that morning.

“She didn’t say anything mean to me,” Antonia whispered to Anathema, “What’s wrong with her?” 

“She has other things in her mind.” Anathema sighed and shook her head disapprovingly, “Madame Tracy is distraught…” 

“She is? Again?” 

“And you know who gets the worst of it.” 

They entered together in the workroom at the same time Madame Tracy got out of her office with a book in her hand. Michael and Gabriel pretended they were not there, because, from the look of her face, someone’s going to get yelled at. 

“Miss Fell.” 

Aziraphale stopped what she was doing and took a deep breath before answering anything, because she already sensed what was coming for her, “Yes, ma’am?” 

“Do you know what this is?” 

The supervisor looked at the book in Madame Tracy's hand and frowned, “Of course— A book.” 

“Here.” She offered the book to her, “Let’s see if you can read it.” 

When she opened it, some of the pages fell off, and she finally understood Madame Tracy’s point all along. “Oh— No!” She said, astonished, “The pages!” 

“I was under the impression it was your responsibility to see that every book in this shop is perfect.” Her supervisor nods, “If that responsibility is too much for you, Miss Fell—“ 

“Madame Tracy— I—“ 

“Or there is something wrong with the provider? The other books are also defective?” 

“No!” Aziraphale didn't even think before responding, giving the stress she’s under, “I don’t think so.” 

“You don’t _think_ so?” Madame Tracy crosses her arms and smiles, sarcastically, “Then it wouldn’t be asking too much for the pages to continue being a part of the book?” 

“No—“ Her supervisor says, deflected, “It wouldn’t be asking too much.” 

“Thank you, Miss Fell. That’s all I wanted to know!” She grabs the book from her hands and storms into her office, slamming the door behind her. 

Aziraphale watched Madame Tracy, gave a shaken breath and hid her face with her hands. That motion made Michael run to her, “Don’t tell me you’re ruining the beautiful makeup you made for your date tonight.” 

Big clear eyes looked back at her, “No, Michael, I am not crying, if that’s what you’re asking.” She tried to smile, but it was a curt, strained thing, “Though, I can’t help but think everything is going wrong for a reason.”

“That’s the nervousness talking, dear.” Michael took Aziraphale’s hand and squeezed it, “You know, when I had my first date with Uriel, my wife, I was so nervous I almost ruined the whole thing. Now, we are married with two kids and a cat.” 

“But—“

“I’m not saying yours is going to be the same way, I am simply trying to show you the possibility of everything going smoothly because it's there.” 

ㅡ

As Michael assured Aziraphale everything was going to be okay, Anathema and Antonia were talking about her date, “It's good to see you in love! So, what’s she like? Tell me all about her.” 

Antonia hesitated, “Well—“

Anathema, of course, realised with quickness what was going on, “Is she tall?” 

“Kind of.” 

“Kind of like six feet or five feet?” 

“I never really measured.” 

“Colour of hair? Colour of eyes?” 

“Not really light, not really dark.” 

“Eyes?” 

Anathema was having some fun, and Antonia realised she wasn't quite good at lying, “Um. Greenish? Blueish?” 

“Brownish?” 

“Yeah.” 

Her witchy friend gives her _that_ smile which is all too knowing, “Do you want some piece of advice?” Antonia nods, “Don’t lose her in a crowd.” 

“Am I such an unconvincing liar?” 

Anathema nods, “Yeah. You need a lot of practice.” 

“The truth is—“ She paused, speaking out loud, she started to wonder why Angel and she never tried to meet before, given the time they were speaking to each other. ”I never met her. Not really.” 

“Never? A blind date, then?” 

“It’s not a blind date! I _know_ her.” 

Anathema didn’t comment anything at this, just gestured so her friend could tell her the whole story. 

“Months ago, I sent a message to the wrong number. Now, I have a date.” 

“That seems like that film, I think the name is ‘You’ve Got Mail’. So you don’t know what she looks like? Never asked for a photo?” 

Antonia shook her head, “Not even her name.” 

Anathema frowned at that information, “Well, if you want me to go with you, you know, to make sure you’ll not be stuck with a seventy-five creepy man, just let me know.” 

“Thank you, but I think I’ve got this.” 

ㅡ

Michael was taking care of the plants. From the corner of her eye, she could see Madam Tracy opening her office’s door, getting out, looking around the shop and deciding that she was going to make Aziraphale’s life a little bit harder at that moment. 

“Miss Fell,” She smiled, but there was nothing good on her smile and Michael started to pay a little more attention. “Perhaps you can help me…” 

“Yes, ma’am?” 

“I am looking for the Christmas Decorations.” Madame Tracy started gesturing, indicating the shop, “I don’t see them.” 

“Yes! We haven’t started them yet.” Aziraphale answered, smiling, “I meant to talk to you about them in a day or two because I had some ideas—“ 

“I am tired of you running to me, like a _baby_ , on every little matter that comes up.” 

The supervisor took a step back. That kind of response was so unfamiliar coming from Madame Tracy because she always seemed to trust and value what Aziraphale did professionally. Still, something changed, and she couldn’t put her finger on what. 

Aziraphale decided to speak up for herself, “Madame Tracy! That’s not fair.” 

Michael could already see the worse happening, so she decided to intervene. “Excuse me… Aziraphale?” She says very gently, but the other woman doesn't seem to listen. 

Madame Tracy didn’t listen either, “I want you to inform all the employees they will have to stay late tonight so we can solve that matter.” Aziraphale nodded. “Is that clear? Even to you?” 

“Perfectly clear, ma’am.” She hesitated, but it didn’t take long for her to speak again, “But I’m afraid I can’t make it. I’ve got an appointment” Madame Tracy started to talk again, but her supervisor beat her to it, “I can stay tomorrow night! Thursday night. Friday…” 

“I’m afraid that won’t be necessary.” She responded with a condescending tone, “I assure you we’ll get on remarkably without you. That’s all. Thank you.” And started to go back to her office. 

At that point, Aziraphale was looking as red as the red lipstick she was using, and Michael couldn’t precisely pinpoint whether she was _angry_ or _about to cry._ “That’s not all, Madame Tracy.” She started, and Michael was sure that was going to be the last of it, “For the last month, I can’t seem to do anything right anymore! Everything’s changed, and I have no idea what it is. Is it me? If my work is bad now, it’s been bad for years! Why the heavens did you wait until now to start making me aware of that fact?” 

“How dare you raise your voice in this shop?” 

Michael chose that moment to make a real intervention and pushed one of the plants that would make the smallest mess possible. That was enough of a distraction for Madame Tracy, and she stormed into her office with a murmur of “Clumsy idiot!”. 

Aziraphale closed her eyes and sighed heavily before helping Michael with the mess that she made, “You did that on purpose, didn’t you?” 

“I had to stop that argument before you did—or said—something foolish.” She smiled and poked her friend gently, “It would be terrible if you decided to resign, so I stopped whatever was happening before you could even think about it.” 

The supervisor stared at her friend of many years, “I’m not sure I appreciate that you know.” She said, not unkindly. 

Michael rolled her eyes, “Oh, but I didn’t do it for you, _Miss Fell_ !” She smiled, “I did it for _me_! Who knows? If you resign, your successor may ask themselves: ‘What’s that ancient woman doing in this modern bookshop?’” 

“You are a very good saleslady, Michael.” 

“And you are very clever, Aziraphale. Don’t act like you are stupid.” 

After their conversation died, Antonia got out of the workroom with Anathema and Aziraphale took that as an opportunity to talk to everyone at once, “While I have all of you here — Miss Crowley, Miss Device — Madame Tracy wants everyone to stay late tonight.” 

Antonia furrowed her brows, she couldn’t believe that everything started going wrong already, “Why?” 

“To work on Christmas decorations. All right?” The last part was said louder because she was asking everyone if it was alright with them staying late. 

Anathema, Michael and Gabriel agreed. Antonia, on the other hand… 

“Miss Fell, _Miss Fell_ , I can’t stay.” 

“Why?”

And even though she seemed interested to know what was going to be her excuse, Aziraphale started walking in between the bookshelves, with an air of nonchalance. Antonia tried not to pay close attention to that and followed. 

“I’ve got a date.” She said, simply. The other woman could have any different reaction, but she chose to glare at Antonia with an arch of her eyebrow. “You _know_ I’ve got a date.” She accused her. She sometimes found it incredible how Aziraphale’s behaviour could annoy her. 

At the accusation, the supervisor did what she did best: she feigned ignorance and looked theatrically offended. “I know no such thing.”

“You are an observant lady, Miss Fell.” She said as a compliment, but it didn't sound quite like one. “Don’t offend yourself.”

Aziraphale sighed, “I’m just following Madame Tracy’s instructions.” 

“Well, why did she have to pick _this one night_?” The supervisor didn’t react like her colleague was even talking to her. Antonia, on the other hand, started mulling that over and decided to accuse her again, “Or did _you_ pick it, Miss Fell? Just because you knew I had an appointment?” 

“Don’t flatter yourself.” 

“You know, I find it quite _depressing_ that anyone could hate me _that much_ —“

Aziraphale sighed, heavily, this time, “I don’t hate you.” She said quietly. Then, she rolled her eyes, “But until you showed up here, this was a happy, peaceful place. Now, everything’s changed: Everyone’s short-tempered. Madame Tracy is on war-path—“ 

She wasn’t screaming, but her tone made Antonia feel like it would be better if she was. 

“You cannot seriously think that’s my fault!” 

“The pages of the books are coming as a separate part of them, now.” 

“How can this be _my_ fault?” When the words fell out of her mouth, she realised that this might be her fault after all. She widened her eyes, “Or is it?” 

“You have been inspecting them.” 

“According to your instructions.” 

Aziraphale took a deep breath, and Antonia could see in the corner of her eye that her beautiful hand was curled into a fist. “Right. Let’s not argue about that now.” A pause. “Can we have a truce?” 

Antonia smiled. “Anytime, Miss Fell.” And, just because she couldn’t let that one pass, she said, “After all, you’re the one who always starts things.” 

“Oh, I’m the one?” She said with venom because now her patience had run out. “It hadn’t been two weeks you started working here, and you started making very public and humiliating remarks about me. Will you deny that?” 

“It was all because of your superiority complex and passive-aggressiveness towards me.” She crossed her arms in front of her and smiled sarcastically, “ _Very public and humiliating remarks._ ” She tried to imitate the way Aziraphale talked, “Don’t you think that’s a little dramatic?” 

Her supervisor looked up, like she was having a silent conversation with God, maybe asking for a little patience. “You are the rudest, most difficult, worst-tempered girl in the world.” She said, after her brief talk with The Almighty, and stormed off towards the water-cooler. 

Antonia didn’t want her to have the last word, so she said “Thank you!” just loud enough for Aziraphale to hear. 

ㅡ

Aziraphale heard the sound of Madame Tracy’s office door, looked up with pleading eyes and tried to make a bargain with The Almighty, even if she wasn’t sure She was listening, _“I mean it, if she stops regarding my presence in the shop just for today I promise that I’ll reconsider start going to the church again—“_

Her inner monologue was interrupted by the proof that She wasn’t listening at all, “Well, Miss Fell, hard at work, as usual, I see.” As she turned to give a proper look at the older woman and tried to say something, Madame Tracy cut her off, “Have you made the arrangements about tonight?” She asked it in a way that made the supervisor feel like she was genuinely incompetent. 

“Yes, ma’am.” She put a smile on her face, “Miss Device, Mr. Haven and Mrs. Jones can stay,” She paused, as she was sure she forgot someone. “Ah! And Adam, of course.” 

The older woman hummed in acknowledgement, “What about Miss Crowley?” 

“She has an appointment.” 

“An appointment!” She exclaimed with amusement, “Guess you could hardly prevail her to stay when _you’re_ not going to.” 

Aziraphale sighed. She was so very tired. She said, “Any other night, Madame Tracy.” and silently prayed that Madame Tracy would leave the matter alone. 

_She_ ignored her again. 

“There seem to have many things, Miss Fell, that interest you far more than your position here in this shop.” 

“Madame Tracy—” She stopped because she couldn’t help but feel surprised by her words. “ _How dare she.”_ Aziraphale thought. She was so very tired. Yet, she felt the need to prove the older woman wrong. “I am _devoted_ to this shop. It’s been years, and you never had any complaints. I couldn’t work harder here If I owned it—“

“If you owned it!” She barked out a laugh, it was an awful sound, and Aziraphale started regretting every choice she had ever made in her whole life, “Well, let me tell you something, my young friend—” Her voice was poisonous, “No matter what you do, you will never get your hands on this shop. Never! Not if I have to come up from Hell and stop you. Is that clear? Now, get away from me.” 

_That wasn’t even what I meant,_ Aziraphale thought, exasperatedly, but what came out of her mouth was, “Yes, it’s perfectly clear. I _will_ get away. Permanently.”

“Can I take that as your resignation, Miss Fell?” 

“That’s exactly what it is.” 

“Very well. I accept it — effective immediately! Miss Device will have your final pay.” 

Madame Tracy stormed out towards her office for what seems to be the millionth time that Tuesday. Aziraphale sighed heavily and glanced at Michael, who was looking back at her with sad eyes, looked at the floor and started her walk-of-shame onto the workroom. 

There, Antonia was trying to recover some damaged books, but Aziraphale didn’t regard her presence at all, she just opened her locker and started gathering her things to finally leave.

“Miss Fell, are you leaving?” 

The other woman seemed surprised, and there was something sad in her voice. Aziraphale turned to face her and nodded, “It should be exciting news for you, Miss Crowley. Very exciting news! Because I won’t be here to argue with you anymore. I just resigned.” 

“Why?” 

Antonia asked as if she was genuinely interested to know what had happened and her voice was entirely sad now like she gave her awful news. Aziraphale was tired and didn’t have time to unpack all of that, “As a matter of fact, I didn’t have much choice.” 

“I don’t know what to say.” 

“You don’t need to say anything.” She paused, “Especially not that you’re sorry. I do not want to end our relationship with _that_ false note.” She closed her locker and started to leave for good. “Goodbye, Miss Crowley.” 

“Aziraphale,” She called and her now ex-supervisor turned to face her, “May a condemned woman have the last word?” Aziraphale nodded, “I never wished you harm. Ever. Sure, sometimes I bit back some rude things I wanted to say but— You have got to believe me.” 

“I believe you, Antonia. “And may I say—“ She lifted her chin, trying to distance herself from the other woman, “I sincerely hope that your path in a career that suits you. And, for the sake of my successor, I hope it’s _soon_.” 

She got out of the workroom and didn’t give any chance for Antonia to respond to her indelicacy. 

Outside, Anathema was already waiting for her with her paycheck and gave her a sad smile with a kiss on her cheek. Gabriel held out his hand, and she shook it.

Michael hugged her. “Even though you’re leaving the shop, you’ll be stuck with my friendship forever.” 

Aziraphale laughed, “I wouldn’t wish any other way.” 

Adam hugged her too. She was in his life for more than he can remember, and it was so upsetting to see her go. “Please keep in touch.” He murmured, sadly. 

“Of course, dear boy.” 

Then, she walked out of the door. 

ㅡ

As expected, Antonia didn’t stay late as the rest of her colleagues. And even though Anathema reminded her a thousand times that she could try to escape Madame Tracy for some time to go with her and make sure that she was going to be safe, the other woman wasn’t preoccupied with that. She was, actually, somewhat preoccupied if “Angel” was going to like someone like her. 

Anathema found that line of thought a little worrisome but reassured her friend that anyone who didn’t like her wasn’t in their right mind. 

“Aziraphale doesn’t like me, though,” Antonia argued, and that argument was completely invalid to Anathema, someone who watched their interactions every day. 

She gave her an unimpressed look, “I think she likes you way too much,” 

Antonia laughed as if it was the funniest joke she had ever heard in her whole life. 

ㅡ

Madame Tracy got out of her office, and she looked more nervous than she was all day. “You can all go home now.” She announced, and Michael stared at her with furrowed brows. 

“Eh…” She realised that what she was going to do was very stupid, but tried to question Madame Tracy’s decision anyway, “But the work isn’t finished.”

“We’ll have to do it some other time.” She paused, “I want everyone out as quickly as possible. Good night.”

Even though Michael had gotten the rhythm of the work, she decided not to argue with her boss, it was clear on her face that it would be wise to be silent. 

“Good night, Madame Tracy.” She said quietly before Madame Tracy entered her office again and went to tell her other colleagues the good news. 

Michael was the first to receive the good news, the last to get out of the shop, and Aziraphale stopped her right at the moment she was getting out. 

“Michael!” 

“Aziraphale?” 

Wasn’t she supposed to be with her hot date at that hour? 

“I have to talk to you…” She was looking at Michael with pleading eyes, and she started to wonder what had gone wrong for her to look so distraught. “Will you come with me to the Cafe Imperiale?” 

“You haven’t shown up to your date yet?” 

“Well—” She had the decency to look guilty at that, “She’ll be there, sitting alone, and on the table, in front of her, there’ll be a copy of “Inferno” with a violet in it.” She paused, “And I’ll be— wearing a violet, here.” She pointed to her hair, that was, as always, beautifully stylised. 

Michael smiled, that was so sweet. “Aziraphale!” Her smile got bigger, she wasn’t going to pass the opportunity to tease her friend, “That’s gay!” 

“I am gay!” 

She laughed, “I know, dear. That’s very romantic— except for one thing: what am I doing there?” 

Aziraphale looked guilty again, and showed her a letter, “You’re going to give her this letter, which explains I’ve been called out of town and will send a message to her as soon as possible to reschedule our date.” 

Michael frowned, “Won't she be disappointed?”

“She would be more disappointed if she saw me the way I am tonight. Will you help me?” 

“Of course I will,” Not before trying to convince her friend that she was looking gorgeous and if Dear Friend, whoever she was, saw her the way that she was tonight would probably marry her on the spot if she was smart, “Although—” 

Aziraphale interrupted her, “Let’s hurry, please? For all I know, she got tired of waiting and went home long ago.” 

A few minutes after Aziraphale and Michael exited the building, a man in a raincoat and a hat comes to the door of the bookshop. He knocks, and Madame Tracy practically runs to the door and opens it. 

“Mr. Werle?” 

“Madame Tracy…?” 

“Come in, please.” 

The man entered the building slowly, looking around to see if they were alone there. “Do we talk here?” He asked, already knowing the answer to that question. 

Madame Tracy nodded, “Everyone’s gone.” 

“Ma’am, as I already told you over the phone, we have completed our investigation on your employees--” 

“Who sent this to me?” She interrupts him, taking a letter out of her pocket and showing it to his face. 

_Well, if you let me explain._ The man thinks, “I’m afraid we don’t know that. As I explained before, anonymous letters are difficult to track down. But we _have_ checked its contents,” He takes a document out and gives it to her, “As you’ll see we’ve been tracking out the Bookshop’s finances to see if there have been any traces of embezzlement.” 

Madame Tracy nods, “I have known all along, I just had to be sure.”

“Well, would you care to have us do a full investigation of Mr. Haven? You know, to sort the problem on legal terms?” 

“Who?” 

“That’s his name — Gabriel Haven.” 

“But I thought—” She stops, realising, “It's just that, I have a supervisor here, and it would be so much easier for her to— and I thought — I naturally thought—”

“If you’ll read the report, ma’am.” 

“Yes. Thank you.” 

“Do you need anything else?” 

Madame Tracy nods, “I want the investigation, please.”

“Good.” He nods along with her, “It would be good to contact your lawyers.” He tries to make it sound like it’s only a suggestion and not something crucial to solving the problems of the bookshop on legal terms. 

“Yes. Thank you… Good night, Mr. Werle.”

“Good night, Madame Tracy.” 

ㅡ

“You’ve come this far… it won’t be difficult to just go the rest of the way,” Michael said, as a matter-of-fact, and Aziraphale shook her head emphatically. Her friend crossed her arms in front of her chest and gave her the best disappointment look she could manage at that moment. 

“Michael, please. Just give her the letter. Tomorrow morning I’ll send her a message, and everything is going to be just tip-top.” She tried to sound hopeful, but Michael realised that it was going to be easier to convince her to talk to “Dear Friend” at that moment than she expected. She just needed a plan. “And thank you, Michael. I really appreciate this.” 

She smiled and started to exit the building, but Michael was faster. “Zira! Wait a minute.” Aziraphale stopped and looked suspiciously at her friend. “Just, you know, let’s take a look at her?” 

“ _You_ look!” Aziraphale’s expression turned to full puppy eyes, and Michael sighed, rolling her eyes. 

“Since when you became my third daughter?” She said, with amusement and a fond look on her face but Aziraphale just shooed her with her hand. 

She walked between tables, looking for a woman with a book and using a violet as a bookmark. Michael didn’t need to search that much because promptly she found what she was looking for and, with a gasp, she noticed that the woman was a too familiar redhead. 

Michael quickly hid her face with her hand so the other woman wouldn’t recognise her and almost ran back to where Aziraphale was nervously standing. She looked at Aziraphale, then back at the table where “Dear Friend” — Antonia! — was, and concluded that the irony of it all was as laughable as it was terrifying. 

Aziraphale was too fast to read her face, “There’s something wrong.” 

“I wouldn’t say so.” 

“Your face says it all! There’s something wrong with her, there isn’t?” 

“Well,” Michael tried to find reassuring things to say without needing to expose anything about who the woman really was, “She’s a very attractive girl.” 

“She is?” Aziraphale asked a little suspiciously, and her friend just nodded, “Will I think so?” 

“Of course, that’s a matter of personal taste. Let’s see—“ Michael pretended she was thinking, “Who does she look like?” 

“A film star?” 

“No, no, no.” Michael held up her hand, still pretending to think, “Let me think—“ She paused, put her hand on her temple and then brightened up, “More than anyone else, I’d say she looks like someone in the shop…” 

“Our shop?” 

“As a matter of fact… you know who?” She paused, trying to see if Aziraphale was fast enough to just discover it for herself. She wasn’t. “Miss Crowley. She looks very much like her.” 

“Miss Crowley? Antonia J. Crowley?” Aziraphale was looking stunned, “But I thought you said _‘attractive’_ ”

“I think so. But if you don’t care for Miss Crowley, I don’t think you’re… Well, I don’t think you’re going to like this girl.” 

“They are _that_ similar?” 

“See for yourself.” 

Aziraphale goes to see for herself, and when she spots Antonia there, she’s so bewildered that her only reaction is to storm off the Cafe, but Michael catches her by the shoulders before she can leave for good. 

“You’re just going to leave her there?” 

Her heart was pounding, and she did nothing but hide her face with hands. “What do you suggest? You want me to tell her I am the poor fool who’s been talking to her this whole time? Who’s in love with her?” She took in her hands the violet that was in her hair and stared at it. “I can’t be in love with _her.”_

“Why not?” Michael waited for a response but got nothing in return, “You know how the saying goes: there’s a fine line—“ 

“It’s impossible!” 

“What?” 

“She’s not Dear Friend! She cannot be.” 

“You’ll only know if you talk to her. Just go there. Find out.” 

Before Aziraphale can even nod in agreement, Michael softly pushed her forward and went running home. 

She looked up for what seems to be the millionth time that day to talk to The Almighty, asked for patience, strength and took a deep breath. Trying to delay her encounter with Antonia, she started strolling to her table. Still, she stopped walking suddenly to take a real look at her before the other woman noticed her staring. 

Antonia looked so enticing under the light of the Cafe that she remembered her feeling of curiosity in knowing the nervous and stunning woman that entered the bookshop that first day they met. That is until Antonia ruined everything.

“Miss Crowley?” She pretended that she was surprised to see the other woman there. 

“Miss Fell!” Antonia startled and widened her eyes, really surprised to see Aziraphale, “What are you doing here?” She asked suspiciously. 

Aziraphale smiled, but it wasn’t genuine. It was a fake, strained thing. She felt the violet still in her hand and panicked slightly, she couldn’t let Antonia see it, so she dropped it away from her. “I’m celebrating. How about you?” 

“I’m waiting for someone,” Antonia answered, curtly, like she was hoping Aziraphale would go away soon. 

“Anyone in particular?” 

“Well, of course! What kind of person do you think I am?” Aziraphale opened her mouth to answer, but Antonia just shook her head and didn’t let her speak, “Nevermind, Aziraphale. I know your answer.” 

“May I sit down for a minute?” 

Antonia looked at her like she was insane, “No. I’m afraid not.” She denied, but Aziraphale just pretended she said otherwise and sat at the table, which made the other woman even more upset, “I already told you, that chair happens to be reserved.” 

“Too bad.” 

“Aziraphale,” She started. “are you spying on me?” 

_What,_ Aziraphale thought. “Spying?” 

“Do you come here just to make sure I _really_ had a date?” Aziraphale rolled her eyes and tilted her head with a smile of amusement, which made Antonia more annoyed, “That I wasn’t inventing an excuse not to work tonight?” 

“I didn’t think your memory was that bad, Antonia, dear.” Aziraphale laughed, “I quit my job, you were there. I don't need to spy for anyone. But that was good. So—“ She put her hand on her chin, indicating that she was interested, “You say you’re meeting someone here. Someone you’ve known very long?” 

“You should leave.” 

“It doesn’t seem right for a person to keep a girl like you waiting all alone in such a public space.” Aziraphale tried to say that casually but Antonia just started looking desperately around the Cafe.

“What if she’s already been here, saw us together and left? I’ll never forgive you.” She snarls, but her ex-supervisor pays no mind to it. 

Instead, she pretended she just noted the book on the table and picked it up to look at it, “What’s this?” 

“Put that back!” 

“That’s a beautiful copy of Inferno. Dante… That’s a good choice.” Then, she took the violet out of the book and held it up, “What’s _this_ for?” 

Antonia widened her eyes and failed to hide her exasperation, “That’s none of your business!” 

Aziraphale looked at her, suspiciously, “Is it possible you never even _met_ this person?” 

“That’s ridiculous.” 

“Of course it is.” She changed her focus to the violet on her hand again, “But you know, some people _do_ make appointments with strangers. And sometimes it goes rather well. On the other hand, sometimes it turns out not so well. At all.” She looked at Antonia again, “Did you never see on the papers the kind of news that some girl went on a blind date and—“ 

“Really, Aziraphale,” Antonia interrupted her, “No matter how much you despise me or how unhappy you may be, haven’t you had enough revenge? I don’t understand you.” 

“How could you, Antonia?” Aziraphale asked and started to play with the ring she always used on her pinky finger, “All those months and you’ve never even listened to me, never even _looked_ at me.” 

“How very wrong you are, Aziraphale.” She sighed, “I’m looking at you right now, and shall I tell what I see? A smug, pendant, petty tyrant. So sure of herself and thinks she is so intelligent. But no amount of books she reads in her whole life can fix that superiority complex and conceited personality.” 

Aziraphale looked up at her with her lip trembling and Antonia’s rage dissipated, leaving her feeling like she had kicked a puppy at the same instant. Her ex-supervisor got up and left quickly, and she tried to call her to say that she didn’t mean to say _all_ those things, but failed. 

“Don’t call her. She’ll come back.” The waiter that has been watching them from afar told her, and she sighed, defeated. “It’s almost closing time.” 

“Closing time? But I’m still waiting for someone,” She informed him. “She’ll have a violet on her hair.” 

“To match the one in your book?” Antonia nodded, “How late is she?” 

She looked at her watch, “Over two hours.” 

“You’re a very patient young lady.” 

She smiled, but there was sadness in her eyes. “I have waited for her all my life. What’re two hours?” 

The waiter put a clean glass and a small carafe of wine on her table, “This is on the house, for good luck…” 

“Thank you.” 

ㅡ

A few minutes later, the last couples exited the Cafe, the waiter came back and started to blow out some candles and stack the chairs on the tables. 

“We are closing up.” 

“So soon?” 

He looked sadly at her, “It seems like your friend didn’t get here.” 

Antonia smiled, trying not to lose the hope she spent a very long time trying to build, “I’m sure there’s some very good reason.” 

“Then she’ll contact you, and you can mend it up. And I hope you will be very happy.” 

“Thank you.” The waiter started to stack some more chairs, and as he did so, he saw the violet Aziraphale had thrown away earlier. He was about to say something to Antonia, but she beat him to it, “Let me ask you something—“ She paused, “You have seen so many of these cases. Does it ever happen that the person is here, and the one they are waiting arrives, looks at them, secretly, and just leaves? Without writing or explaining? Does that ever happen?” 

“Sometimes…” 

“How heartbreaking that must be.” 

He agreed but reassured her that she didn’t need to worry about that, for she was a very nice presentable young lady. She thanked him for his time and went home, wiping her tears away. 

ㅡ

Wednesday morning, Adam arrived almost early, and after answering a call on the bookshop’s old telephone, he knocked at Madame’s Tracy’s office door softly, “Madame Tracy?” 

“Come in, dear.” 

Adam hesitated for a moment. The day before, she wasn’t even close to a good mood, but he hoped she was feeling at least slightly different that morning because he had witnessed many of the fights she had with Aziraphale that day, and that was very much to handle. 

He entered the office, and she smiled at him. That was a good sign. “Something happened?” She asked him, slightly curious. He didn’t have the habit of knocking on her door often. 

“I’m afraid I have bad news,” He made a face, and she frowned, “Miss Crowley called, and she’s terribly sick. She won’t be in today.” 

She nodded, but her face was unreadable. Eventually, she asked, “Do you think I should send her a ‘Get Well Soon’ card?” 

He directed his gaze at his hands because he didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t expecting this kind of question to come out of Madame Tracy. 

“That would be very considerate of you, Madame Tracy.” He looked at her again and smiled, but she only hummed, not looking at him anymore. He started debating with himself if that was a good time to ask her what he was thinking about for a long time. He took a deep breath. If he didn’t gather the courage to do it soon, he would never do it. The minimum that could happen was to be rejected. “Well, I can’t help thinking—“ 

She looked at him with a curious expression. He was nervous and had stopped talking, so she made a gesture with her hands, encouraging him. “About?” 

“Christmas is almost here, and you know how the shop gets around that time of the year, and we’re going to be very short-handed in the shop.” 

“We’ll have to manage.” She said, simply. 

That’s his cue.

“But,” He held up his hand, trying to show her that he was more intelligent than he let it show, “one more employee would certainly come in handy.” 

“What is it?” She asked suspiciously. “You know someone who needs a job?” 

“Madame Tracy,” He sighed, “You’ve got to stop thinking of me as just the delivery boy. With a suit and a tie, I can look older!” And made a pose to show her, “I’ve been training myself very hard for two years!” 

“Oh!” She seemed interested, “You have been training?” 

He proceeded to tell her everything he learned of the years he spent watching everyone in the shop and asking Aziraphale for advice. 

“I’ll think about it.” Madame Tracy smiled then, and he got his hopes up, “Now that you’ve mentioned Aziraphale, I need you to do me a favour.” 

He nodded, “Anything, ma’am.” 

“Well, could you contact her for me? I need to speak with her urgently.” She said, very serious, and he asked himself what could be so urgent that Madame Tracy wanted to speak with Aziraphale after the ugly fight that happened the day before.

He nodded again, “Of course, Madame Tracy.” 

ㅡ

Aziraphale was laying down on her bed, thinking about all the mistakes she’s ever made in her years of living when there was a knock on the door. It wasn’t that insistent, so Aziraphale gathered that if she just stayed quiet, pretending she wasn’t home, the person would go away soon, and she could go back to her moping. 

“Miss Fell?” The person called, and she recognised the voice behind the door as Adam’s, frowning. Something happened, then. Even though she was curious, she wanted to be left alone, so she pretended a little bit more. Maybe he would give up after some time. 

He didn’t. And the curiosity got the better out of Aziraphale. 

With a roll of her eyes, she got up and looked at herself in the mirror for some seconds. Aziraphale looked like she hadn’t slept for a long time, but at least she was decent, so she opened the door. 

“Good afternoon, Miss Fell!” He smiled at her, “Madame Tracy sent me here.” 

She arched an eyebrow, “Oh?” 

“Yes.” He nodded, somehow lively, “She says she needs to talk with you, urgently.” 

Aziraphale’s frown deepened. 

“What can be so urgent?” 

Adam shrugged, “She didn’t let me know any details, so you’ll need to go to the shop to find out!” He grabbed his bicycle and started to leave without another word. 

Aziraphale just stood there, unsure of what had just happened. 

ㅡ

“Madame Tracy?” 

After spending a long time doing her makeup to disguise the pain she was feeling in her soul, Aziraphale found herself at the bookshop again, knocking on Madame Tracy’s office door. 

Again, _curiosity._

“Come in, Aziraphale.” 

When she entered, Madame Tracy was already standing with a quite strange expression in her face. Aziraphale tried to force a smile, but it just made the whole situation seem even more awkward. 

“Adam told me it was urgent?” She asked tentatively. 

“First, I need to do something.” Madame Tracy walked towards her and held her hand. She looked Aziraphale in the eyes and sighed before speaking, “Please, I’m aski— No, I’m begging you to forgive me.” 

The ex-supervisor stared at her for a couple of seconds. She was trying not to show how surprised she was that Madame Tracy was feeling sorry by what happened the day before, but considering the way her eyebrows were furrowed, she was instead failing at it. 

“It’s okay, Madame Tracy. I forgive you.” Aziraphale smiled reassuringly because Madame Tracy looked like she was going to get sick. “You don’t need to worry about that.” 

“No,” She shook her head. “You can’t let me off that easily. I did a terrible thing to you, and there’s no excuse.” She paused, with a slight tilt of her head, changing her mind, “Well— I guess there’s _one_ excuse: the suspicions of an old woman.”

Aziraphale frowned, confused. “Suspicion?” 

“Poor Aziraphale. Still in the dark.” She said, ruefully, “I guess you’re the only person in the world who ever took part in embezzlement without knowing it.”

“Embezzlement?” Aziraphale asked, more alarmed than she meant it to be. 

Madame Tracy nodded, “You’ve been taking part in embezzling money from the shop.” She explained, calmly.

Aziraphale was too appalled to sound coherent, “I’m sorry, what?” 

“I have all the facts.” 

“But that’s not true!” Aziraphale tried to argue. She couldn’t decide what was weirder: the accusations or the fact that Madame Tracy was saying all those things with a calm that she had never seen her have in her entire life. 

Maybe Madame Tracy was calm because there was someone outside the door just waiting to get unfairly arrested. 

Madame Tracy nodded as if she was trying to say, _‘Yes, that’s the point I was trying to make.’_

“I _know_ it’s not true. I know _now._ But last week — and two weeks ago — I didn’t know.” 

“I can’t believe it!” Aziraphale started pacing across the office. She was feeling betrayed. Even after many years working for her as a supervisor, Madame Tracy couldn’t trust her? “Did you really think…?” 

“That’s just the point. I _didn’t._ ”

“I can’t wrap my head around it.” 

“Aziraphale—” Madame Tracy sighed, “Starting today, if you’re willing, _of course_ , I’d like you to come back as my supervisor again.” 

Aziraphale stopped to consider that proposal. Even though she was feeling betrayed by Madame Tracy’s suspicions of her, she loved working in the bookshop as if it was her own. She loved the feeling of being surrounded by books and meeting new people who had the same passion as her; she loved the relationship she had with her coworkers, even the ones who made the experience harder for her. 

She nodded, “Of course,” She smiled to herself, “but I’ll want a raise.” 

“Well,” Madame Tracy agreed and smiled, genuinely happy that they were on good terms again. “You better get going, then. You’ll be very short-handed today. Adam told me Miss Crowley isn’t coming in…” 

“Miss Crowley! Why not?” Aziraphale asked, more upset than she intended to be. 

"She's sick.”

Aziraphale frowned. She seemed fine the day before. “What’s wrong with her?” 

“Adam didn’t say.” Madame Tracy shrugged, “I’m going to send her a card, do you want me to include your name in it…?” 

“No need, Madame Tracy.” 

“Well, you’ll have to manage without her.” She paused, grabbing a brown envelope and handed it to her, “And another employee as well: Mr. Haven. I want you to fire him and give this,” She pointed at the envelope on Aziraphale’s hand. “to him.”

“Gabriel? _Fire_ him?”

“Yes.” 

“I didn’t realise Mr. Haven was so unsatisfactory. He may be obnoxious, but he works hard—” 

Madame Tracy cut her, “At the wrong things.” 

Aziraphale frowned. “I’m not sure I follow.” 

“You don’t need to.” She smiled as if she was telling an inside joke with herself and didn’t expect Aziraphale to understand. “Just know that he’ll have a nice surprise when he gets home.” 

The supervisor just nodded and got out to do what was asked of her, but when she opened the door, she almost crossed paths with Adam. The boy was waiting for them to finish their conversation. 

Aziraphale suppressed a giggle, and nodded at him, “Adam,” She said, and left without another word. 

He just smiled at her and directed his attention to Madame Tracy. 

“Have you been thinking about me as a sales employee?” 

“Quite seriously,” Adam widened his eyes, surprised that it had worked. “But there’s one thing that puzzles me… You’re so attached to your bicycle. Could you ever bear to part with it?” 

Adam thought about it for a moment, “What if I _didn’t_ have to part with it altogether? I could be half delivery boy and a half in sales.” 

“Adam!” Madame Tracy smiled proudly. “You just made a sale!” 

“I _did_?” 

“As of right now. But we can’t call you Adam anymore. Your last name is Young, right? Son of Deirdre Young.” 

“Yes, it is!” 

“Welcome to Medium’s Bookshop, Mr Young! And send my regards to your mom.” 

ㅡ

Antonia J. Crowley woke up that morning determined to go to work and forget the evening before. She sat on her bed, still sleepy and feeling the aftermath of crying herself to sleep, contemplating if she really should get out from the comfort of her home that morning, and grabbed her phone to call in sick. And after describing to Adam about how badly she was feeling, she went back to sleep. 

In that sleep, her subconscious decided to show her how the date could have been and how she, unknowingly, wished it had been. 

Like the night before, Aziraphale had shown up at the Cafe Imperiale, but instead of making a show of being surprised that she found Antonia there, she just took a seat on her table, smiling. 

“Miss Fell?” Antonia frowned, “What are you doing here?” 

“It would be very inconsiderate of me if I hadn’t shown up to our date.” Her smile got bigger as Antonia’s frown deepened. “Don’t you think, Dear Friend?”

“Angel?” She whispered bewildered. Aziraphale only nodded. “Please, tell me this is not a joke.” 

Aziraphale caught her hand, which was resting on the table, and held it. “I promise you, this is real.” 

After the moment of discredit went away, their date was perfect. Both women laughed together, drank wine, shared stories, discussed topics they were passionate about and apologised for the way they acted towards each other in the bookshop. Hours later, they exited the Cafe Imperiale holding hands and almost kissed if it wasn’t for the distant sound of a doorbell and someone calling her name. 

“Who’s there?” She called, sleepily and not wanting to wake up just yet. Maybe if she got back to sleep soon, she could go back to her too-perfect dream. And deal with the implications of it later. 

“Miss Crowley?”

Antonia blinked rapidly to make the sleep go away and got out of bed unsteadily to open the door, but when she saw Aziraphale on the other side, she closed it again. On her face. 

What was Aziraphale doing there? And how Antonia was supposed to act knowing that she was out there having romantic dreams about the woman outside the door, and worse: enjoying them? 

As if the other woman was reading her thoughts, she called again. “Antonia? I was in the neighbourhood,” 

Antonia grabbed a blanket and wrapped around her, using it as a shield before opening the door again, “What do you want?” She left the door unlocked, so Aziraphale could come in and started walking towards her bed, “Did you remember something you forgot to say last night? If you did, just say it already and get it over with. I’m feeling awful today.” 

Aziraphale, strangely, looked at her with the same kind eyes she remembered from the dream. “I know you’re not.” She smiled, “That’s why I’m here.” 

Antonia stared at her suspiciously. “You knew I was sick?” She half-closed her eyes, “How?” 

“I think this will come as quite a shock to you, Miss Crowley,” Aziraphale cleared her throat, “But, the fact is, I’m back at Medium’s Bookshop again.” 

It was really a shock. 

“Back at Medium’s Bookshop?” 

Aziraphale nodded, smiling, and Antonia remembered that the woman in front of her was nowhere near to be the same woman of her dream. 

“And you’ve come to see if I’m really sick?” She laughed with no humour in it. “Is that it?” 

“Antonia!” Aziraphale gasped, with genuine surprise that the other woman was accusing her of that. “Of course not!” 

Antonia paid no mind to her and continued: “So you can tell everyone there’s not a thing wrong with me? And that I just don’t care about my job?” 

“No!” 

Even with Aziraphale trying to argue, Antonia got up and put on one shoe. “You’re not going to have the chance! What time is it? I think I won't be _very_ late.” She started to look for her other shoe but didn’t find it. “Where’s my other shoe? Help me find it!” She demanded, and the other woman started worrying more about her health state. 

“I think you just need to lie down a bit.” She said and started following Antonia around. 

“If I were a shoe,” Antonia wondered, “where would I have gotten to?” 

Aziraphale frowned so hard that the expression lines on her forehead deepened. “Do you have a fever?” 

“Look at me!” Antonia pointed at herself, “I’m feeling much better.” Then walked towards her closet looking for an outfit to wear and pulled two pieces of clothing, “Which one?” 

Aziraphale came closer to her and took the clothing from her hand so she could put it back on the closet again. She held Antonia by the shoulders, “Be a good girl, and lie down.” She said softly, and from the sympathetic expression she had on her face, there were no implications to what she said. 

Antonia blushed, nonetheless. 

In a matter of seconds, the situation felt too overwhelming for her. She sat down on her bed and started thinking about the way she was left alone the evening before and about the dream. 

What did that mean for her? What did it mean for her relationship with Angel? Will she contact her? And why was she dreaming about another woman —Aziraphale, of all people—wishing she was someone else? 

Antonia hid her face with her hands and started crying. No, not crying, _weeping._

Aziraphale widened her eyes and panicked inside. She stared at the wall, trying to give Antonia a little privacy while she was sobbing and give herself time to think of something to do or say. She sighed sadly but soon brightened when she remembered something. 

“I brought you something!” She said, trying to sound cheerful and the other woman took her hands off her face. A single tear rolled down on her cheekbone while she stared at her with curiosity. 

“What?” 

“Well,” She smiled softly and grabbed a package she had brought with her and Antonia hadn’t seen before. “See for yourself.” 

Antonia took the package out of her hand and looked inside, “What is it?” 

“It’s a piece of chocolate cake. With three layers. It’s the best thing in the world when you get sick.” 

Antonia started crying again. “That’s so sweet of you.” She took the container out and started eating the cake, but the crying hadn’t stopped. Aziraphale sat beside her on the bed, trying to be supportive. “There’s something wrong with this cake…” 

“There is?” 

Antonia sobbed. “So much salt!” 

“Are you surprised? All these tears falling into it!” Aziraphale pointed out, with no real bite to it. 

“Oh.” Antonia looked down and tried to wipe her tears away, “I’d better cry in the other direction then.” 

Aziraphale just watched while Antonia held the cake away from her face and tried to eat it without actually seeing it. At one moment, one piece of cake fell on the bed and Antonia, without hesitation, just grabbed the cake and ate it. 

“Why cry at all?” Aziraphale asked, her voice softer than Antonia ever heard in her life. 

“How little you understand, Miss Fell. The pain of a disillusion.” She sniffed, and another flow of tears started flowing forth again. “Of a broken heart.” She almost choked on her own words. 

“You know, Antonia—“ Aziraphale looked down at her own hands, but soon her gaze found Antonia’s. “I’ll never forgive myself for last night at the Cafe. Things could be very different If I wasn’t really all the things you said to me.” 

“Strangely enough, you were right!” She looked down at the half-eaten cake, “When you guessed I’d never met the woman I was waiting for. We just ever talked via messages.” 

“She never showed up?” 

Antonia nodded. 

“I feel very responsible for all of this.” 

“You’re not.” Antonia held her hand and squeezed it. “There could have been so many reasons. But what hurts more it’s the fact that she didn’t contact me. It would have been so easy to just send a message!” She exclaimed, outraged, and started crying again. 

Aziraphale watched sadly, not knowing what to do. She was feeling awful for being the person responsible for inflicting that kind of pain on Antonia, and all she wanted was to take it away. 

“Antonia, she _will message you_!” She said, without thinking. 

The other woman just laughed. “I don’t think so.” 

“No, I’m not just guessing. She told me herself!” When Antonia’s face lightened with hope, she smiled, but her conscience was scolding her for lying to the woman she loved. 

“Herself? You ought to tell me how that happened!” Antonia squeezed her hand again with excitement and Aziraphale blushed when she realised they were still holding hands. 

Aziraphale started to think. “Um. Yes. Dear Friend. You. Right.” She took a deep breath and started again, “Well, when I left the Cafe last night, a woman stopped me and said, um, she started asking questions about you and me.” 

Antonia arched an eyebrow, “What sort of questions?” 

“Oh, _you know_ what sort of questions she asked.” 

“But I want to know the _words_ she said.” Antonia crossed her arms in front of her chest and stared at Aziraphale expectantly. “You can’t start telling me the information without detailing it. That’s not _how_ _it_ _works_.” 

“You know how my memory is.” She smiled, trying not to sound, or look, too nervous, but the way she was playing with the ring on her pinky finger gave almost everything away. Antonia had seen Aziraphale do it enough times not to be bothered by it. She thought it was cute, even. “I don’t think I will remember the exact words.” 

Antonia got closer to her, “Try.” Aziraphale just blinked. “Please?” 

“Very well. Do you really want to know all the details?” Antonia nodded with enthusiasm. “She approached me and said ‘Excuse me, but can I ask you something?’ Or something like that. Then, she asked me if I had just left the Cafe. And you want to know what I said?” 

“Just get on with it.” 

“All right. I said ‘Yes. Didn’t you see me leaving the place seconds ago?’”

Antonia gestured for her to continue. “And then—“ 

“She asked me about the girl I was sitting with— _you—”_ Aziraphale pointed at Antonia, but that was useless. “Then, she asked if you were a _special friend_ of mine. I laughed and said, ‘Oh no, she’s just a coworker. As a matter of fact, she has an appointment with someone else tonight.’ To which she looked quite sad.” 

Antonia pouted. Aziraphale found it adorable. “She looked sad?” 

“ _Quite_ sad.” She emphasised. “She said, then, that she knew about that because the appointment you had was with _her,_ but your Angel friend couldn’t show up because she had to travel to another town in urgent business.” 

“Urgent business! That explains it, I guess.” 

“It does,” Aziraphale said, got up, and started walking nonchalantly around the room. “I didn’t know you had a taste for women who smoke.” 

Antonia frowned. “Huh?” 

Aziraphale pretended she didn’t hear her and spotted Antonia’s bookshelf. “Oh, that’s marvellous! You have a beautiful collection of books.” She smiled. “Look at that.” 

Antonia didn’t hear what she was saying. She was too busy trying to process this new piece of information about the woman she had been messaging for so long. 

“What did you mean— A taste for women who smoke?” 

“I beg your pardon?” 

Antonia was exasperated. “You just said you didn’t know I had a taste for women who smoke!” 

“Oh, yes.” Aziraphale nodded with emphasis. “I think she smoked three cigarettes in a row when she spoke to me, and our conversation lasted less than five minutes.” She paused, looking amused. “You didn’t know about that?” 

“Ugh. That’s a nasty habit.” 

“It is. But does that matter?” Aziraphale crossed her arms in front of her chest and smiled, more amused by Antonia’s reaction than before. “Aren’t you in love with her?” 

Antonia got up from the bed, ready to argue. “I _am_ in love with her! Very much so. I just thought— I _hoped_ —“ She took a deep breath, pulling herself together. “I mean, everyone has its vices, isn’t that right? Her mind and her character are the most important. I think I can surviv— coexist with some cigarettes.” 

Aziraphale nodded, making a show of agreeing with her point. “You put it very well, Miss Crowley.” 

Antonia brightened. “Also, Miranda Otto looks very hot smoking.” 

“Your friend is no Miranda Otto, though.” 

“That’s not important.” Antonia dismissed her opinion and shook her head, but soon she brightened again. “Oh! Thank you for coming here today, Aziraphale! You made my day better.” 

She walked towards Aziraphale and kissed her on the cheek, rather impulsively. That little gesture rocked Aziraphale’s world, and she blushed a little too hard. 

“I will send a message to her right now. I think she will be a little occupied at this moment in the afternoon, but in the evening she certainly will see it!” Antonia smiled, so beautifully, and Aziraphale wished she could just kiss her right there. “I won’t mention you, though. It would be embarrassing for her, wouldn’t it be?” 

“It would.” Aziraphale smiled and pointed at the door. “I guess I need to get back to the shop.” 

“And I will follow, as soon as I’m done here.” 

Aziraphale shook her head. “Oh, no. Today is your day off. There’s no need for that.” 

“Oh, alright.” Antonia agreed, and the other woman started walking towards the door to leave, but she remembered to say something. “Oh, Aziraphale! May I tell you something, sincerely?” Aziraphale turned to look at her the same way she remembered from the dream and Antonia pushed that memory away. There was no time for that. “I like you, _Miss Fell_ , I really do.” 

Aziraphale softened, “Thank you, Antonia. I appreciate that.” 

They spent a couple of seconds just staring at each other, smiling softly. Aziraphale was the first one to break their spell and said her farewells while Antonia just stood there, watching her leave, even though she didn’t want her to. She took a shaky breath and stared at her phone, not knowing what she was supposed to say to the Angel who, even with good reasons, still left her waiting. 

ㅡ

**[Dear Friend] 3:56pm**

_i am so sorry about last night_

_it was a nightmare in every way_

_but i hope that together you and i will laugh at this someday_

ㅡ

Aziraphale spent the whole bus trip to the bookshop thinking about what happened at Antonia's house. 

The first time Aziraphale had seen Antonia, it was some time after she started talking with Dear Friend, and she was amazed by the heavenly red hair and those bewitching golden-coloured eyes. It was curious the way she was all dressed in black, looking like an evil villain, even though she seemed very nervous about being there. 

It wasn’t in Aziraphale’s plans to talk to her. She was actually planning to leave that one to Michael, but unfortunately, her friend knew her _too_ well, and when she took a brief look at Antonia, she gestured to Aziraphale to just _get on with it_ with a knowing smirk on her face. 

Everything was working just fine until Antonia said that she was looking for a job and Aziraphale needed to start following Madam Tracy’s orders on how to act on those cases. 

Until she lost the bet. 

Now, it was a strange feeling, knowing that Antonia was in love with her, even though she didn’t realise that the virtual friend nicknamed “Angel” was Aziraphale. She wondered what she would do if she discovered the whole truth because, days ago, they couldn’t stand each other. All their conversations always ended with a fight. And when Aziraphale had the opportunity to tell the truth, she lied. 

And one day Antonia would know the truth. How would she react to it? 

No, she wouldn’t think about it at _that moment_ , when the future was looking a little more promising than ever. Maybe later, she could worry about the consequences of her actions. 

She would rather bask in the feeling of being the object of Antonia’s affections. 

Aziraphale sighed. She hoped this warmth wouldn’t go away too soon. 

ㅡ

After Antonia sent the message to her Angel, she laid on her bed and stared at her ceiling, thinking about Aziraphale. 

She was stunned. 

Firstly, that was the first time they were in a room together without having a spat. Aziraphale’s demeanour was so kind and pleasant, and she looked, without a doubt, preoccupied and ready to help Antonia with her situation with the woman she was in love with. Even when she was teasing her about it. 

And, secondly, Aziraphale brought her _chocolate cake._ To make her feel better. Because she thought Antonia was sick. 

That afternoon she acted more like the Aziraphale of her dream. Her smile was warm like the first time they met when she was just Pretty Lady for Antonia. 

She smiled to herself and closed her eyes, remembering fondly, until her brain scolded her for making her own life difficult. Aziraphale wasn’t the one she was in love with. Angel was. Why would she think about Aziraphale that way just because of one dream? Just because she was nice to her _one time_? That made no sense. 

Their relationship could improve to friendship, but Aziraphale would never feel anything romantically towards her. 

And, honestly? She didn’t want that. She already had someone who reciprocated her feelings. 

ㅡ

“Look at our new supervisor!” Michael exclaimed, happily, as Aziraphale entered the workroom. “I think she looks too much like the older one, don’t you agree, Anathema?” She said, smirking to Anathema before walking towards her with open arms to give Aziraphale a welcoming hug. 

Anathema nodded. “I think she looks beautiful. Even her aura is brighter.” 

Aziraphale accepted the hug promptly, but Michael and Anathema didn’t miss the playful roll of her eyes, “Missed me?” 

Anathema laughed, “You didn’t even give us the chance to miss you!”

“I know, I know,” Aziraphale pretended to sigh sadly, “Next time I’ll give at least two days to come back then.”

When she said that, Gabriel knocked at the workroom’s door and stuck his head in, looking very annoyed. “Excuse me,” He gave a pointed look to Michael and Anathema, “But I could use some help there. We do have customers, you know?” He withdrew his head. 

Aziraphale tilted her head to the side, looking confused. What was Gabriel still doing there? She widened her eyes in horror and started looking for the brown envelope Madame Tracy had given her earlier. Of course, it was forgotten! She had prioritised Antonia. 

“That reminds me: I’ve got to have a word with Mr. Haven,” Aziraphale said when she found the envelope and went into the shop. 

Michael, who was watching the scene with mild curiosity, started wandering inquisitively towards the door. “A word with Gabriel, huh?” She asked out loud what was on her mind. Waiting for Anathema to comment on it or have some piece of information. She always had one. 

“Oh, who cares about _him?_ ” Anathema shrugged, nonchalantly, but soon she brightened, “I have some better and more interesting gossip to tell you.” 

Michael sat with her, and Anathema started to tell about the gossip she discovered about her ancestors and Newton’s, her boyfriend. She started talking about how Agnes Nutter, her ancestor, who was a witch, appeared in a dream just to talk about Newt’s long bloodline.

The older woman ended up agreeing that otherworldly gossip was a thousand times more interesting. 

Minutes later, there was a knock on the workroom’s door, and Aziraphale barely entered until Michael started probing, “You spoke with Mr. Haven?” 

“Yes.” Aziraphale nodded, her face unreadable. “And I might as well tell you: Mr. Haven is leaving us—right now. Madame Tracy’s orders.” 

“Why?” Anathema asked, “I mean, it’s nice. He is awful. But what happened?” 

“I’m afraid I can’t tell you.” 

“I bet I know,” Anathema said, thoughtfully. “The cards told me something about this.” She widened her eyes, realising what she said, “Not because I do readings on you! The cards just tell me what I need to know.” She tried to explain, with hurry and dashed out, leaving the other two women standing there, confused. 

Michael turned to look at Aziraphale and took a deep breath, preparing herself for what she was going to confess. 

“Aziraphale, now that you’re here and everything is straightened out…” She started, with elaborate calmness. “I might as well tell you that was me who sent the anonymous letter.” 

She tried to get out of the workroom quickly and leave the conversation like that, but Aziraphale stopped her. “Michael! What anonymous letter?” 

“You didn’t know about that?” Michael scolded herself inside her mind. It wasn’t hard to just keep quiet. “Well, what did you think caused all the inconvenience? I wrote to Madame Tracy about one of her employees and the—“ 

Aziraphale interrupted her. “You did _what?”_

Michael crossed her arms in front of her chest, “Don’t get all judgy. I was desperate! Business was so bad, and I thought to myself: If she fires Gabriel, who _deserves_ it, she might not fire me, who doesn’t.” 

“You do realise the amount of trouble you’ve caused?” 

Michael nodded. “And I’ll regret it until the day I die.” She said earnestly. “But how could I ever dream that Madame Tracy would think I meant _you_?” 

“Well, Michael—“ Aziraphale paused, shaking her head. “I certainly hope you have learned your lesson.” 

“Oh, I have.” Michael smiled, “Of course, I have. Believe me! In the next letter? Name the names!” She pointed out, intelligently, and went into the shop. 

“Michael, no!” Aziraphale exclaimed, terrified, and followed her. “We’ll continue this conversation later.” 

“That’s what I’m afraid of.” 

ㅡ

“Anathema,” Michael smiled proudly, pushing Adam forward with gentleness, “May I present our new salesperson — Mr. Young.” 

“It’s true!” Adam said, happier than ever. “Ask Madame Tracy!” 

“Adam!” Anathema clapped, excited. “How wonderful.” 

At the same moment, Gabriel got out of the workroom, ready to leave. He was neatly dressed and carried a curious expression. As always, he interrupted their conversation, “What’s wonderful?” 

“I’m the new salesperson of this shop!” Adam answered proudly, “Starting right now.” 

Gabriel arched an eyebrow, “Can you believe it?” Sarcasm and venom were dripping from his voice, “Gabriel Haven, replaced by a delivery boy!” 

Adam frowned. “Replaced?” 

“Yes, Adam, I’m leaving,” Gabriel explained, looking bored. “I just resigned. I wouldn’t stay here another day.” 

“How could you?” Michael smirked. “You just got fired!” 

Gabriel rolled his eyes, “Fired? Ha! Believe that if that’s what makes you happy. But you won’t be happy for very long because one day that door,” He pointed to the bookshop’s door, “Will close for the last time.” 

Everyone disregarded his words, but he still made a show of leaving the place like he was the one being wronged. 

ㅡ

After everything that happened, Aziraphale and Crowley became friends and, for the happiness of pretty much everyone in the shop, they stopped fighting every time they spoke to each other. Instead, they were all smiles and longing stares when the other wasn’t paying attention. 

Which was infuriating for Michael, who knew about everything. 

Antonia still kept in touch with Angel. They talked every day, but Antonia couldn’t help that little feeling of yearning when she spoke with Aziraphale. Or was thinking about her. Or remembering about _the dream_ , and _the smiles_ , and _those eyes_. 

Aziraphale, on the other hand, worried every day about the consequences of her actions, and even though she hoped, the warmth really went away too soon. 

Every time Antonia talked with her, smiled at her from the other side of the room or laughed when Aziraphale said something funny, her heart insisted on reminding that she could have everything she was longing for. If she just told Antonia the truth. 

**[12 days to Christmas]**

It was like Someone was having too much fun watching Aziraphale suffering with love, because when she decided to stop organising books and look at the bookshop’s front door, Antonia arrived.

She looked so beautiful that Aziraphale forgot she was late. 

And, well, Antonia was wearing sunglasses. But that wasn’t the appeal for Aziraphale, for she used them quite often, the temptation was when she took them out. With confidence, revealing those delightful eyes of her. 

When Aziraphale realised that she was staring, it was too late. Antonia was already walking towards her with a smile on her face. 

“Good morning, Miss Fell!” 

“Good morning, Miss Crowley.” She started to pretend she hadn’t stopped organising the books just to look at her, “How are you feeling today? I hope you’re ready for a thousand customers.” She smirked. 

Antonia laughed. Aziraphale wanted to remind her every day how beautiful she is. “You can be sure I am!” 

“I assure you that those twelve days are going to be _something_.” 

The bookshop started to fill up with people after that. Those were the kind of people who had time to spare or the type who organised their schedule to do their Christmas shopping when everything wasn’t too crazy yet. 

When their last customer left, Antonia went to say her farewells to Aziraphale, but not before having a conversation with her, given that they couldn’t do so during their work shift. 

Antonia smiled at her, “It was quite a day, don’t you think, Aziraphale?” 

Aziraphale looked a little nervous, or maybe surprised that Antonia was striking a conversation with her, but she wasn’t going to comment on it. 

“It certainly was, Antonia.” 

Antonia nodded. They stared at each other for a couple of seconds, but they felt like an eternity until she decided to break up their silence. “Oh, I want to thank you for the book! It was magnificent.” 

Aziraphale seemed to relax a little more and smiled. “I’m very glad you enjoyed it!” She paused for a moment. “Will you be taking the bus home today?” 

Antonia forced back a frown. Aziraphale didn’t know that she had a car? She never showed her the beautiful Bentley she owned? And why was Aziraphale— _Oh._

She decided not to comment on the car.

“Yes. I will.” 

“May I walk you to the bus stop?” 

Antonia’s heart gave a backflip. “I’d like that very much, Aziraphale.” 

**[9 days to Christmas]**

Antonia was starting to experience the real craziness of Christmas shopping. The shop was filling up quickly, sometimes she attended three people at once, and there was no time for her to even look longingly at Aziraphale. 

Their last client left, and she started organising shelves. Antonia was asking herself why people take off the books from their right place just to put them in other sections of the shop when Aziraphale called her. 

“Are you in a great hurry today?” 

“No. Not at all.” Antonia smiled at her and gestured for Aziraphale to follow her. She lowered herself to put a book on the right place, realised that they were all wrong and started fixing them too. 

“Well, I thought that… A cup of coffee on the way to the bus…” Aziraphale paused, and Antonia hummed to indicate that she was paying attention and she could go on. “Would be nice… don’t you think?” 

“I would love that, darling,” Antonia answered before reaching for another book and paused midway. 

Had she just called Aziraphale “darling”? 

Antonia widened her eyes and turned away quickly from Aziraphale so she couldn’t see her mouth to herself a _“What the fuck? Why did I say that?”_ , but promptly left the books alone, they could be organised the next day. Antonia got up so she could look appropriately at Aziraphale and met a heavenly smile and a delightful blush of her cheeks. 

Neither of them commented on the endearment.

**[4 days to Christmas]**

As Aziraphale looked after a customer who was excitedly explaining to her that she wanted a book that suited her daughter’s taste, a girl who loved to read, she realised that the shop was lively compared to the last Christmas season. 

She was tired, but she was also content to see lots of people who loved books as much as she did showing up at the shop. 

And it was almost impossible when she was thinking about things that made her blissful, not to look at Antonia. She was looking particularly stunning that day, her gorgeous red hair was half up with french braids, and the part that wasn’t braided was stylised with curls.

Even though she looked tired, she still managed to look as striking as ever. 

That thought made Aziraphale sigh happily like she was just a teenager discovering what it felt like to be in love for the first time. Still, soon she’s pushed back to reality by the customer she’s supposed to be taking care of, who gave her a knowing smirk before showing her two novels and asking her which one she thought was better. 

The day passed quickly, and when the last client left, Antonia left out a big, tired sigh. “What a day, huh?” 

Aziraphale laughed. “Just wait until the 24th!” 

**[1 day to Christmas]**

“Merry Christmas!” 

They all said in unison as Anathema opened the door so the last customers could finally leave. When the last one walked out, they proved that all of them had a flair for the dramatics and ran towards the door to close it definitely for the holidays and took a deep and collective breath.

With that motion, Aziraphale and Antonia ended up getting _too close_. 

Antonia turned to look at the other woman, and they both realised at the same time that Aziraphale was holding Antonia’s waist. The woman took out her hands like the touch burned, and blushed so hard that even her neck was red. “I’m _so sorry_. I didn’t—“ 

"I know, I know.” She smiled at her. “It’s ok.” Antonia was blushing too, but she didn’t want Aziraphale to know that, so she hurried up and started organising the things in the shop. 

Anathema pulled a long tape out of the cash register and called the attention of everyone in the shop. “Here it is!” She said, smiling, and gave the long piece of paper to Aziraphale. 

“Not bad!” 

Michael looked at her like she was saying the craziest thing she had ever heard in her life. “Not bad? That’s at least forty-five centimetres longer than last year!” 

“Oh, if every night was Christmas Eve!” Antonia said, just to watch them protest about it.

Anathema made a face, “I don’t think I could take it. I hadn’t time to catch a breath today.” 

“I took care of fifty-three costumers… personally!” Adam pointed out, proudly. 

As Antonia entered the workroom, Aziraphale wandered over to Michael to help her to organise a bookshelf. “Well, it’s coming. She’s going to invite me home for Christmas Eve!” She told Michael, who didn’t realise she was terrified with the idea. 

“That’s splendid!” 

Aziraphale shook her head. “It’s not splendid at all!” She looked at the workroom’s door and leaned closer to Michael, who couldn’t be more unimpressed. “Tonight's the night she’s supposed to meet her Angel!” 

“But _you are_ her Angel!” Michael argued. 

Aziraphale gestured randomly, “That’s just _the point_!” 

Michael sighs, frustrated. “Oh, I give up! Even you can’t understand this whole situation.” She shook her head and started walking in the other direction, leaving Aziraphale by herself. 

Aziraphale didn’t get to be by herself for much longer, because Antonia got out of the workroom and went to talk with her, seeming a little nervous. “Aziraphale!” She smiled, “Mom, Dad, and I, of course, would be so thrilled if you’d spend Christmas Eve with us.” 

“Well!” Aziraphale hesitated. She started thinking of excuses to make but couldn’t think of any. “Antonia—“ 

“It’s such a special Christmas Eve!” Antonia beat her to it. “You know who’s going to be there?” She asked excitedly. “Angel!” 

“Who?” Aziraphale tried to sound innocent, but there was a smirk on her face. 

“Angel!” Antonia smiled, “The woman I’ve been talking to. Remember?” 

“Yes. Of course.” Aziraphale said, nervous, and started playing with a ring she was using on her pinky, “But I certainly don’t want to intrude.” 

Antonia laughed. “You would never! Actually, you would be a help, because you’ve met her before.” She paused. “And you’re so alike! Really. You can help me when the conversation gets too deep for me. Please…?” She stared at Aziraphale with something closer to puppy eyes, and that made her give in completely. 

Aziraphale nodded, “Alright.” She tried to speak something else, but Madame Tracy decided to get out of her office and interrupted what she was about to say. 

“Merry Christmas, everyone! Look what I brought: champagne.” She held it up so everyone could see. 

“Merry Christmas, Madame Tracy!” They all answered in unison like it was rehearsed. But if they had rehearsed it, it wouldn’t have come out so perfect. Aziraphale took advantage of the situation to show her the long tape Anathema had taken out of the cash register. 

Madame Tracy gasped, “You did all of that in one day? Aziraphale just nodded proudly. “We need to celebrate that.” 

Michael went to the water cooler to bring cups for them, Anathema started working to open the bottle of champagne. They all were feeling the contentment of Christmas. 

Anathema succeeded in opening the bottle, “Shall I pour?” 

Madame Tracy nodded, “Of course!” 

When she started to pour champagne to Adam, Aziraphale stopped her for a second. “Now, now, now, just a little for Adam, he can have more when he’s of legal drinking age in all countries.” Anathema and Madame Tracy just laughed, and Adam looked at her like he wanted to say: _‘Really?”_ but decided to stay silent. 

“The toast, Madame Tracy?” Michael prompted. 

Madame Tracy held up her cup, “Christmas Eve. The shop! And all of us together.” She smiled. “Merry Christmas.” 

After all of that demonstration of love, Newton went to the shop to get Anathema so they could have their Christmas Eve dinner. Michael left too, but not before complaining about her wife’s sister, who was going to be there when she arrived home. And Madame Tracy invited Aziraphale to a gala dinner. 

Aziraphale made a face, “I wish I could, Madam Tracy, but Miss Crowley invited me to—“ 

“Don’t give it another thought, my girl!” She said, smiling all too knowingly, “We can go another time and you can tell me how your dinner with Antonia went.” She winked at her and Aziraphale laughed, not having the heart to tell her that things weren’t like she was thinking at all. 

Madame Tracy ended up inviting Adam to dine with her, and they also left, leaving Antonia and Aziraphale alone to close the shop. 

They stared at each other briefly, and Antonia reached out to pick up her packages, one of them being just a beautiful little pot with violets in it. And a tie, which was also violet. 

“Let me help you with those,” Aziraphale said, but when she finally saw the plant, she started to laugh. “Really?” 

Antonia just smiled, her cheeks burning a little, “I know you hate them, especially when they are close to your Dear Books, but I happen to like them. And I thought that Angel would like them too, as a gift.” Aziraphale just stared at her with an arch of her eyebrow. “I think she needs something to purify the air, you know.” 

Aziraphale laughed again, “You haven’t let that go yet?” 

“I would never!” 

“You know, Antonia.” She paused, taking a deep breath. “I don’t hate the plants in the shop as much as I used to. As a matter of fact, I wouldn’t mind owning one myself, even though my house is full of books.” 

“You wouldn’t?” 

“If only to remember the first day you came into this shop, do you remember?” Antonia only nodded, “I will never forget it!” Aziraphale smiled wickedly and started imitating her, “ _It’s so cheap! Can you imagine? They are so good with energy, and look at my hair!”_

Antonia chuckled, “I was _so terrified_ and you were so awful!” She shook her head and stared at Aziraphale, who wasn’t looking at her, with a small smile. “Did I really sound like that?” 

“You sounded—“ Aziraphale looked down at her hands, she started to think of adjectives to describe how her view of Antonia at the time was, but none of them sounded right. She decided not to think too hard about it. “Irresistible.” She decided to look up, and Antonia looked as surprised as she was feeling for letting her passionate mouth control things. But well, if you can’t take the heat, you need to get out of the kitchen, and Aziraphale wasn’t planning to do that. “In fact, I remember thinking: that’s the kind of girl I could almost fall in love with.” 

“But you were _so awful._ ” Antonia tried to argue. Aziraphale only nodded. “And you never said anything!” 

“How could I?” Aziraphale took a shaky breath, “I knew how you felt about me.”

“But you didn’t! Not really, you didn’t.” She walked closer to Aziraphale, “Because I thought the same thing about you, that you were the kind of girl I wanted to fall in love with.” 

“As awful as I was?” 

Antonia nodded, but Aziraphale only noticed the sorrowful expression she was carrying with her. “What a shame you never spoke up.” 

“And you.” 

Antonia sighed, looking down. “Who knows what we might’ve been.” She started walking towards the bookshop’s door, and Aziraphale just stood there, watching, not knowing what to do or what to say. 

“Antonia,” Aziraphale decided to call her, just when she was reaching the door. Antonia paused. “Dear friend, don’t go.” 

“What did you just say?” 

“ _I am so sorry about last night_ ,” Aziraphale started to recite, “ _It was a nightmare in every way, but I hope—“_

Antonia interrupted her, “ _That together, you and I, will laugh at this someday.”_ She recited, “Angel?” She breathed out the question, barely inaudible, and Aziraphale just nodded, walking closer to her. 

“I’m sorry.” Aziraphale was nervous, her mind was spiralling because she was about to face the consequences of her actions, so she started to ramble. “I have known since the date, but I was terrified! And I lied to you. And I’m sorry, I’m really, _really_ sorry.” She looked at Antonia and realised that they were too close, and the other woman didn’t look infuriated. 

Believe it or not, Antonia was smiling. “It was what I hoped. That it was you.” She started laughing. Aziraphale tilted her head to the side, confused. “I dreamed, the very next day, that you were Angel. My mom’s witch genes really passed down to me.” 

Aziraphale smiled and hummed, agreeing with her and staring at Antonia with adoring eyes. They were impossible closer now, so she reached out to take a lock of Antonia’s hair out of her face and held it, not resisting to plant a kiss on the corner of her mouth. 

“May I kiss you?” Aziraphale whispered. 

"I would like nothing more than this." Antonia breathed out. 

Aziraphale couldn't bring herself to think of anything she would like to do more than kiss Antonia right at that moment, so she did it. 

**Author's Note:**

> Don't forget to give me feedback! I love hearing your thoughts.


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